


Becalmed

by UninspiredPoet



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbian Characters, Lesbian Sex, Major Character Undeath, Multiple Partners, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate Elves, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19871239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: The sea is an unforgiving mistress. Sometimes, the wind is against your sails. Sometimes, the only clear route is through the fury of a raging storm.Yet, mercy can be found in the strangest of places. Even in the sound of a siren song as your death draws near. None knows that better than the crew of the Talah Falor. A crew of risen sailors who have all heard that very song.Thalassian is a dying language. The Quel’dorei are a dying race. Yet, everyone who sees the dark sails of Death’s Chill knows those words. They know its Captain’s name just as well. Sylvanas Windrunner, who took the helm from Queen of Pirates, herself. Her mother.Our ship, she dreams of wind in her sails,Of wind in her sails unfurled...((Disclaimer: My not-for-profit transformative work is only published by me on Archive of Our Own. I do not give my consent or authorization for it to be reproduced or displayed on any third-party websites or apps.))





	1. She Dreams

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/48321998036/in/dateposted-public/)

Air.

There wasn’t enough air. 

Just the burning of saltwater in the back of her throat. 

The fire in her muscles as they slowly gave in to the fatigue of fighting against the waves that crashed around her. Over her. Pulled her under. Obscured her vision with their darkness as the moon glinted against the crests of waves over her head. 

This was it, then. The end. 

It wasn’t as peaceful as she’d always thought it would be. It hurt. Oh, god, it hurt. So terribly that she welcomed the finality of it all. 

_”Not yet, child.”_

Nothing. 

For a while, there was nothing. 

Then, gradually, noises began to nudge at the edge of her thoughts. The creaking of wood. Of...of a ship. 

She was cold. Freezing. That was what brought consciousness rushing back to her in a wave of anguish. 

She tried to cry out, but when she parted her lips - no sound came. 

“Shh. Shh, I have you. Breathe slowly. Slowly.” 

The hand on her cheek was oddly cool. The voice was odder, still. Hollow. Cold. Yet, somehow, soothing. 

Her eyelids fluttered open and, as her vision spun, she saw a woman. A woman as beautiful as she was terrifying. Then, she had no choice but to shut her eyes again, lest she be sick. 

The pain returned quickly. Her hand darted up to her neck. Her throat. Her throat had been cut before she’d been thrown into the sea. She remembered, now. But, why? Who? 

“No.” That same firm, soothing voice returned and guided her hand away from the wound that had already been sutured shut. From the wound that was nothing short of a death sentence out on open waters. “Leave it be. Tell me your name.” 

“Valeera.” She rasped quietly as another shudder wracked her body. 

“You’re safe here, Valeera. Safer here than anywhere else.” 

She tried to ask where, but it hurt. It hurt to speak. And, again, that hand was on her. Cradling her face as a fingertip traced along her lips to silence her. 

“You’re on my ship.” 

Valeera’s eyes snapped open immediately. All at once, the woman holding her clicked into focus. Sylvanas Windrunner. She was on Death’s Chill. 

“Sleep.” 

Valeera knew nothing else. She knew nothing else for what could have been hours. Days. She woke in short fits of confusion. There wasn’t much pain. She could tell she’d been given things to calm her nerves and soothe her aches, but that was about it. She was aware of very little else. 

Sylvanas never left her side. Even though she had no way of knowing that for certain, she could just...tell. It brought her more comfort, perhaps, than it really should have, all things considered. 

This ship...its Captain and crew, were almost as feared as they were fabled. But she would take her comfort where she could get it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Captain?”

Sylvanas lifted her head slowly from the maps she’d been studying strewn across her desk and settled her glowing gaze on the man standing in the open doorway of her cabin. “Quartermaster.” 

Lor'themar gave her a faint nod and then glanced in the direction of the unconscious woman who had taken up residence on their Captain’s bed for the better part of a week, now. He glanced down at the plate of food she was holding in her hand, then walked over to retrieved the one he’d brought this morning. Untouched. Just as the one from the prior evening had been. 

“Captain…” Lor'themar began carefully as his brow furrowed at the sight of the festering wound spanning the width of the young elven woman’s throat. “She hasn’t eaten in three days.” 

“She’ll eat.” Sylvanas responded simply before looking back down at her maps. Lines. Lines she didn’t really see. Lines she couldn’t focus on. Lines that meant nothing, right now. 

Lor'themar cleared his throat and placed the plate down on the edge of the bed. “Of course, Captain. It’s only…” 

“I’ve no time for toying about. Speak, if you have something to say, Lor'themar.” 

“She suffers, Sylvanas.” Lor'themar’s voice was quiet with his concern. More so for Sylvanas than for whom he could only guess would be the newest member of their crew. 

“Leave us.” 

“You know. You know why she’s here.” Lor'themar continued. “Why prolong-“

“That was an order.” Sylvanas snapped as she stood from her desk and adjusted the dark leather lapels of her tattered jacket. 

“Mmh…” 

Sylvanas’s head snapped in Valeera’s direction and then she narrowed her eyes at Lor'themar, who only frowned softly before turning. 

Every time. It was like this every time. 

It was like Sylvanas couldn’t remember the last one. Or the last. Or the one before. Even though the rest of them could. 

As soon as her cabin door shut, Sylvanas rushed over to sit on the edge of the small bed Valeera was laying in. 

The blue tinge that was threatening to take over Valeera’s lips had Sylvanas moving closer quickly, sitting with her back in the little alcove that was built into her cabin so she could pull Valeera slowly into her lap against her chest. “I’m here.” She whispered, swallowing thickly as the young woman’s trembling fingertips rested against her leather-gloved hand. 

“Don’t go.” Valeera husked weakly. She wanted to see Sylvanas. To know that she was staying with her own eyes. She just...couldn’t open them any longer. “I’m scared.” 

Sylvanas wrapped an arm around Valeera’s chest and her head hit the wall behind her with a dull thud as she lifted her eyes and swallowed thickly before releasing a shuddering breath. “There’s no need to be scared.”

Valeera didn’t have it in her to argue. Not anymore.

No matter how close Sylvanas held Valeera, she never stopped shivering. No matter how much she encouraged, she didn’t have the strength to eat. She didn’t even have the strength to drink. 

Sylvanas had been so certain that this time it would be different. That she would save her. 

Valeera felt a strange sense of calm wash over her as she heard a melody being hummed against her back that began in Sylvanas’s chest. A melody that gradually turned to words.

“Our ship, she dreams of wind in her sails, of wind in her sails unfurled.” 

The shivering became less violent, and Sylvanas lifted one of her hands to stroke slowly through Valeera’s hair. 

“And shining as we cross the sea, we cross the sea for home.” 

The words and melody wove together like a spell that was blanketing Valeera in warmth as Sylvanas continued. The first warmth she’d felt in days. A warmth that settled into her very bones. Words that ran together and cut through the terrible fever of her dreams. Dreams she’d given up hope of ever escaping. 

“No more rationing and measure...when we have the wind in our sails.” 

Sylvanas’s eyes shut tightly when Valeera’s chest fell...and didn’t rise, again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Valeera noticed when her eyes opened was the fact that she felt, well, better. She could breathe properly and her skin didn't feel like it was both frozen and burning at the same time. She could even open her eyes for longer than a moment or two at a time.

“Good morning.”

Valeera looked over towards Sylvanas’s voice and found herself rather taken by the smile being pointed in her direction. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” She responded as she pushed herself up in the little bed and glanced down at the small stack of clothing near the pillow. 

“For you.” 

Valeera stared at the garments for a while before her brow furrowed suddenly in confusion. “I don't remember…” She whispered, her eyes flashing back up to Sylvanas, who quickly masked the faint look of surprise on her face. “I don't remember.”

“There's nothing to remember,” Sylvanas replied as she recovered quickly and stood to make her way over to the now-risen elf. She then reached down for the clothing and handed the pile to Valeera. “The Quartermaster will be around shortly to show you to the crew quarters. Lor’themar.”

Valeera nodded and offered Sylvanas a faint smile. Captain. Offered her _Captain_ a faint smile. This was her ship and Sylvanas was her Captain. Yes. That was right. She belonged here. That thought alone helped to ease the faintly off-kilter feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach since she’d woken that morning. 

Not more than a moment or two later, the Quartermaster was there to fetch her and she was top-side. She hadn’t realized from inside the Captain’s quarters just how large the ship was. Nor had she realized it was crewed mostly by elves, though not living ones. She saw a human here and there, but they were few and far in between. Most of the stories about Death’s Chill were rather scarce on specifics. It wasn’t as terrifying as the sailors she’d been around in various taverns made it out to be, really. 

Impressive. Imposing. It was certainly that. Then again, there weren’t many ships of the line turned pirate ships in these waters. Then again, there weren’t many ships with the history that this one had, either. If the tales were to be believed, anyway. 

The further across the deck Valeera walked, however, the more inclined she was to believe them. Many ears were twisting in her direction. Many eyes focused on her sharply. Some of the women were dressed how one would expect them to be...and some weren’t. It seemed some of her counterparts were still rather attached to the garb of their people, or what was left of them. Some, though, were as dark and mysterious as their Captain. 

Eventually, she was led to an oddly cozy-looking room with almost stall-like sections that were spanned by hammocks. Once she was settled, she placed her clothing in the chest that seemed to be anchored to the floor of the ship and ran her fingertips across a handkerchief she’d found in the stack. 

Without really considering why she chose that out of all the other accouterments and wrapped it around her neck. It felt like it belonged there. Belonged there as she belonged on this ship. 

“The Captain will want you to have an evening to settle yourself. In the morning, you’ll get acquainted with the crew.” Lor'themar eyed her carefully as Valeera slung herself into her hammock comfortably and looked up at him. 

“The scarf suits you.” 

Valeera smiled softly and nodded her thanks before the Quartermaster slipped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She doesn’t _know_.”

Sylvanas didn’t turn her attention as Lor'themar spoke. The cadence of her boots against the deck didn’t change. Nor did her level, steely expression.

“And she will not know unless she wishes to. Understood?” Sylvanas responded coolly, her hand never leaving the hilt of her cutlass. 

This surprised Lor'themar. That much was obvious. His surprise was what finally brought Sylvanas to a halt and had her turning to face him. She drew him close enough so that the sound of creaking wood and waves breaking against their ship would cover their voices, entirely. 

“I ask you for one thing, Lor’themar.” Her voice was hushed and almost urgent. “Have I not provided for this crew? Have I not kept us safe? Are our coffers not lined?”

Lor’themar’s brow furrowed. She knew the answer to the question she’d asked, and she certainly didn’t expect one from him. 

Sylvanas tightened her grip on his arm in her earnestness and continued. “When was the last time you saw one of our kind so young? Give her time.” 

“It can’t last forever.” Lor’themar protested quietly, though it was clear he didn’t feel quite so strongly about his argument, now. Rarely had he seen Sylvanas quite so protective over a newly risen. 

“Nothing does,” Sylvanas replied simply. 

“Very well, Captain. I trust your judgment.” 

“And I, yours,” Sylvanas replied as she finally released his arm. “Look out for her for me, Lor’themar.” 

Lor’themar nodded immediately. There was something about the way she’d said it. Not quite an order. Not quite a plea. Just something he could never have gone against. Something he never would. 

Once she was certain they’d reached an understanding, Sylvanas parted ways with him and made her usual rounds. 

First, to the helm, where she found Cyndia, who tipped her head as soon as her eyes rested on her Captain. 

“How are the waters?” She asked, as was their routine - despite the fact that Sylvanas, herself knew better than any of them the answers to all her questions. 

“Easy, Captain. And the skies clear.” She responded with a faint smile. “And how is our new one?” 

“She’s well. I mean to check in on her before I retire.” 

Cyndia’s smile widened faintly. “Do you think her hard enough for this life, then?” 

“I don’t know her story, Cyndia, but despite her age, I don’t think she’s had an easy life. How could she have? She must be one of the last, surely.” 

Cyndia was quiet for a moment as she rested her palm over one of the handles on the wheel she regularly manned. It was easy to forget, out here, the state of their world. Of their people - scattered and few as they were. How they’d dwindled, over the years, to almost nothing. “You’re right, of course.” She finally agreed with an almost sat smile. 

Sylvanas responded by reaching out to grip the risen elf’s shoulder gently. “Enjoy the easy sailing tonight and don’t dwell for too long. I’ll rest easy knowing you’re at the helm.” 

Cyndia felt the strange weight that had settled over her lift and she sighed and nodded. Sylvanas always knew just what to say. It was almost uncanny, sometimes. It was a great honor to know she could allow her Captain an easy evening. 

All of her stops were like that. Sometimes a simple look was enough for whoever she passed to find heart in their task. Sometimes it took more. 

Tonight, it was Warren that seemed the glummest. Not that he ever seemed particularly overjoyed. It seemed more serious this time, though. 

“Boatswain.” Sylvanas greeted to his back as he inspected a stack of rope. He hadn’t heard her approach. Something Sylvanas was, by now, used to. He was human, after all. Human and not quite so...alive as the elven members of her crew. Admittedly, they were all dead. But Warren...was particularly dead. “Why the long face tonight?” 

He grunted as he turned to face her. “Has my jaw come undone, again?” 

Sylvanas chuckled as her eyes glinted in amusement she didn’t bother to hide. “Come, now, Warren. Don’t keep your burdens to yourself. Your Captain offers to share them with you.” 

Warren sighed and glanced back toward the monstrous coil of rope he’d just finished looking over. “Rats.” He finally admitted. “Lost some rigging. I hadn’t noticed them. If I had to guess, I’d say we picked them up last port.” 

“Ah, yes. Rats. We can spare a bit of rigging, you know. Well. Of course, you know.” 

That last comment brought a hint of a smile to Warren’s face and a knowing glint to Sylvanas’s eyes. 

“Perhaps I do know.” Warren responded as he rolled the weathered parchment he’d been looking at up and slid it back into the pouch that hung from his belt. 

“Maybe we’ll get you a cat next time we go ashore.” 

Sylvanas wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever seen Warren look excited until now. He forced himself to sober quickly, though. 

“Whatever the Captain wishes.” He replied, sounding as unaffected as he could manage. 

Sylvanas chuckled quietly and ignored his grumbled protests at being picked on as she turned to leave him and headed, instead, to the crew quarters. 

They were largely empty. Most of her crew preferred the galley if they had no duties to attend to in the evening, but she had a feeling Valeera wouldn’t be there. Not just yet, anyway. 

She’d been right. As she rounded the corner and seemed to materialize out of the shadows, themselves, due to her way of dress - Valeera jumped slightly where she’d been dozing in her hammock. 

“Captain…” She husked as she sat up as quickly as she could manage. “The Quartermaster told me you’d prefer if I didn’t report until morning. I’m sorry if-”

“Valeera, be easy.” Sylvanas said in that soothing, slow tone she’d used in her cabin with her all those days. Days that Valeera couldn’t recall, now, despite the fact that the way Sylvanas spoke to her was oddly familiar. “I’ve only come to see that you’re comfortable.” 

Valeera didn’t quite know what to say to that. While she hadn’t been aboard many ships, really, it was oddly sobering for someone of Sylvanas’s stature to personally see to her. To notice her. To care. 

“I’m...a little nauseous if I’m being honest,” Valeera admitted quietly as Sylvanas made her way over to her to sit down slowly next to her so that she wouldn’t turn her hammock over. 

Valeera watched Sylvanas reach beneath the breast of her jacket and produce a small, linen-wrapped packet. “Tea,” Sylvanas explained in an even softer tone than she’d used before. “Three days’ worth. I suspect you’ll be having an easier time of things by then. If not, there is plenty more where that came from. You only have to find Lor’themar or one of the others to ask for some.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” Valeera looked down at the little bundle she was holding like it was made of gold. Maybe this would help her walk more than a few paces without having to find something solid to hold onto. Then, her face fell. So she wouldn’t see much of Sylvanas, anymore - if she’d been instructed to go to others. 

“If I’ve taken too much of your time, I really am sorry. I promise you I’ll earn my keep as soon as I figure out how.” 

Sylvanas reached out almost immediately and ran the back of her hand along Valeera’s cheek, watching carefully the way the young woman’s eyes fell shut as she did. “Consider your keep earned. This ship has the most competent crew you’ll ever meet. You’ll be among them. You’ll learn. You’ll be as good as any of them.”

That, at least, was a comfort. Even if she had no one - at least she could be of use. She’d never had anyone, anyway. Maybe one day she really would be good. Maybe that would make her a part of something. 

She didn’t realize she’d been toying with the scarf at her throat until Sylvanas was guiding her hand away from it gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for a while, yet.”

“Uh...aye, Captain,” Valeera replied in a tone that made Sylvanas laugh quietly. It wasn’t demeaning, though. It was gentle and kind. Like a song, almost. Like music. 

“Sorry, I, um. Sorry.” 

“Not all pirates talk like that,” Sylvanas explained as she gave Valeera’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Though, there is certainly a seadog or two onboard.” 

Again, Valeera found herself feeling relieved and reassured. So much so that fatigue began to dull the edges of her senses, again and, recognizing this, Sylvanas left her as she moved to lay back down in her hammock. 

Finally, she returned to her cabin - smiling as she saw the candles and sconces therein already lit. 

“Velonara.” It could only have been her, really. No one else would have entered while she was away. 

“Mmm, yes.” Velonara murmured as she stepped against Sylvanas’s back and stroked up the center of it. 

Her Master Gunner. Her confidant. Her lover. Who wasn’t Velonara, really? 

The only one who seemed never to need anything from her, aside from simply her presence. For so long, Velonara had been her haven in every storm. Her rock when she might have otherwise drifted astray. 

That was no different, tonight. Gentle, yet strong hands removed her heavy jacket and turned her around so their eyes could meet. “How is she?” Velonara asked quietly as Sylvanas’s hands found her sides and slid slowly around to the small of her back. 

“Settling well.” Sylvanas replied. “Resting.”

“Resting,” Velonara repeated as she tilted her head and leaned in to brush her nose against the crook of Sylvanas’s neck. She loved the smell of sea and leather that always dwelled there. She always had. “You’ve done precious little resting of late, my Captain.”

“True enough.” Sylvanas murmured. “Are you trying to get me into bed?” 

“I’m always trying to get you into bed,” Velonara replied with a soft smile that turned into a kiss against the underside of the other woman’s jaw. “It’s your bed, after all. I merely share it with you on occasion.” 

Sylvanas began drawing the hem of Velonara’s shirt from her breeches so she could trace the skin of her back, but there was no urgency in her touches. No desperate need. Rest sounded lovely, and Velonara had known it would before she’d ever come here, tonight. “Share it with me tonight.” 

“Of course.”


	2. Stargazing

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/48321998036/in/dateposted-public/)

It was so rare that Sylvanas had a quiet evening to herself. An evening to sit along the window-lined benches of her quarters and listen to the ship move with the waves that rocked the substantial craft every so often. 

It was times like these that she could feel more than usual. Things that she couldn’t comprehend. Like whispers that she could almost hear. Words she could almost make out. 

Sometimes, she could close her eyes and feel things she ought not to feel. Now was one of those times. She wondered, for a while, if the strange sense of...yearning she felt was her own, or someone else’s. She wondered until it became too strong and her eyes opened slowly to settle back on the slivers of light the moon left against their wake through the window she was propped against. 

Just a moment longer, before the footsteps heading in the direction of her cabin door would draw near enough for her to pull away and move to stand behind her desk while she waited.

When those footsteps finally stopped, however, Sylvanas smiled almost sadly at the absence of a knock or any sort of announcement of someone’s presence. 

“Valeera? Come in, please.” 

Almost sheepishly, Valeera glanced inside as she cracked the door just enough to see Sylvanas where she was standing. It was odd to see her out of her usual garb. Just a flowing black shirt, no doubt silk, that was mostly unlaced down her chest and some breeches - worn and comfortable, though still tailored with shocking accuracy. The only sign of her usual clothing was a deep red sash tied about her waist. 

Even her hair looked different, somehow, without the presence of the high collar of her jacket. She looked almost ethereal in the most strangely alluring, yet intimidating way. 

Perhaps sensing her hesitation, Sylvanas lowered herself into the chair and rested one of her hands on the edge of the desk as her expression shifted into something softer and more inviting. The gentle way in which her lips curved might even be interpreted as a smile. “Come in. Close the door. Don’t be afraid.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Valeera replied quietly as she pressed the door shut carefully and moved to stand halfway between there and Sylvanas. Sylvanas, who regarded her quietly as her head tilted and her brow furrowed. 

“What troubles you?” She asked - concern evident in her voice, though she still leaned back in her chair casually. 

Valeera swallowed thickly as she felt her cheeks burn and adjusted her attention to the floor. Sylvanas watched her trace the lines of cloth that made up the scarf around her neck and she exhaled quietly. 

“Come here.” 

Valeera nodded and moved towards the desk, continuing, even, as she reached it - until she was standing just beside the Captain’s chair. Sylvanas reached for the hand that had been worrying at the scarf and took it into her own so she could brush gently over Valeera’s knuckles with her thumb. A flash of questioning passed through Valeera’s eyes as she felt that touch. Why did she feel surprised to find it not cold? Had it been cold, before? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even remember why she might know. 

“What is it, Valeera?” Sylvanas asked, noting the way the young woman seemed to lean towards her any time she feared her hand might be released. Without speaking, Sylvanas gave it a gentle tug and smiled as Valeera climbed into her lap. “Are you comfortable?” 

Valeera nodded. 

“Wonderful. Then tell me what’s on your mind.” As Sylvanas spoke, she lifted her hands and ran her fingertips along Valeera’s face and into her hair so that only her thumbs remained touching skin - resting against either corner of Valeera’s jaw. There was terrible tension there. Tension that lessened as Valeera relaxed into her lap. 

“I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. I don’t know why I am.” Valeera admitted quietly as her eyelashes fluttered when Sylvanas’s free hand slid along her thigh. 

“What is ‘this’, Valeera?” Sylvanas asked quietly as her thumb found the hollow of Valeera’s hip just beside the crook of her thigh and stroked along it slowly. 

“I’m just so…” She drew in a sharp breath and reached for Sylvanas’s shoulders, marveling at the strength of them as she leaned closer to her. 

“You aren’t.” Sylvanas responded as Valeera’s face hovered very near her own, now. Near enough that with a faint tilt of her head, Sylvanas was brushing her lips against the younger woman’s. “You aren’t alone.” 

The quiet whimper that left Valeera as she leaned closer told Sylvanas that was exactly what she’d feared. Sylvanas answered that sound with a brush of the bridge of her nose along Valeera’s jaw and a quiet murmur. “You may kiss me if you wish.” 

The tease of Sylvanas’s lips against her own hadn’t prepared Valeera for just how soft they would be when she did. Like velvet against her own, and the way they moved. The way they cradled her lower lip for just a moment before she felt the Captain tilt her head only to kiss her again. To brush her tongue against the bow of her upper lip in a way that made Valeera part them without thinking. 

The kiss was deep without needing to be. Even the shallow dip of Sylvanas’s tongue past her lips and against the tip of her own seemed to touch the very core of her being. Valeera reached for the hand that was still holding her thigh, but she paused just as she’d been about to guide it further, and Sylvanas broke their kiss to reassure her with a soft, sweet, murmured sound against her cheek. 

Valeera was already panting when Sylvanas’s fingers began unlacing her breeches delicately with so much fluid ease that there was no tugging. Just the eventual brush of fingertips further and further until they were parting silken, aching flesh. 

“You needn’t have waited so long to come to me.” Sylvanas breathed in response to a sharp, sudden jerk of Valeera’s hips against her hand when she found her entrance and began tracing it with slow, feather-light touches. 

“I didn’t know.” Valeera gasped after burying her face against the side of Sylvanas’s neck. 

“That is my fault and not your own. I should have been more clear with you. My door is always, always open to you. To anyone.”

Sylvanas wasn’t certain if the tentative graze of fangs against her neck was Valeera’s way of answering her, or in response to the fact that she’d finally begun pressing her finger into the slick, tight heat she’d been toying with. 

“You’re never alone, here, Valeera.” Sylvanas murmured as those fangs caught, finally, against her skin when she sank her finger in completely. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...” Valeera whispered hurriedly as she withdrew her teeth and her breath caught slightly when she pressed her hips down in an attempt to get Sylvanas deeper. 

“You needn’t be,” Sylvanas replied quietly, tilting her head to the side slightly as Valeera pressed a lingering kiss against the unintentional mark she’d left. “I know you didn’t work up the courage to come to me tonight to hide things from me.” 

Valeera let out a trembling breath as that statement came with a slow thrust of Sylvanas’s finger and she dropped her hand to wrap around the Captain’s wrist rather firmly. 

Sylvanas could feel how tense Valeera was - down to the occasional tremor in her thighs - and she leaned her head back against her chair slowly so she could look up and see her a bit more clearly. 

Valeera met her gaze and took advantage of the pause to catch her breath as Sylvanas’s hand stilled against her. She wanted what Sylvanas was offering her, even if she had a hard time believing it was being offered so freely. It mostly had to do with who was doing the offering. Sylvanas wasn’t just any ship’s Captain, after all. And on top of that, she was...breathtaking as she looked up at her. 

As if in response to an observation she couldn’t possibly have heard, Sylvanas smiled in a way that made her eyes shut ever so slightly. Then, Valeera couldn’t help but reach up and stroke along her cheek. She even grazed the corner of the other woman’s mouth with her thumb. 

Her chest was still rising and falling quite heavily, though, and she still absolutely ached with want for more. A want that materialized in a slow, deliberate lift of her hips. She found the way Sylvanas nodded at her almost heady. She didn’t look down. She didn’t attempt to remove her clothing. 

In fact, the more Valeera moved, the more it became clear that Sylvanas’s only focus was how _she_ was feeling. 

All of this was new, really. The ship. The crew. She’d learned more over the past few days than she felt like she ever had before. Yet, this was the biggest change. With every moment that passed, Sylvanas was replacing each and everything Valeera had come to expect from sex with something slow and soft and careful. It was something Valeera had never thought she wanted. Something she certainly didn’t realize she needed. 

But as Sylvanas held her closer and closer the nearer she got to her orgasm, she realized she absolutely needed this. Oh, god, did she. Desperately. 

“Don’t chase it,” Sylvanas whispered as she gripped Valeera’s hip with her free hand to slow her down and began moving with her - guiding her into gentler, easier motions. “I promise I’ll get you there.” 

She did, of course. Slowly - so that it wasn’t such a shock, and by the time she came, Valeera’s quiet moans were muffled against her shoulder where she’d rested her head. Sylvanas wiped her hand against her own breeches quickly and then wrapped her arms around Valeera’s back. 

This, too, was new. The slow, light stroking of Sylvanas’s fingertips against her back through her shirt was almost hypnotic. 

“More?” Sylvanas asked quietly when she felt Valeera shift in her lap.

Valeera shook her head softly and Sylvanas helped her move to sit differently in her lap until they were both facing her desk. Now, she laced the younger woman’s breeches and pressed a kiss against the back of her shoulder as her eyes fell on the scattering of maps curiously. 

“Do you understand them?” Sylvanas’s voice was gentle, again - yet not quite as quiet. Though something about it made Valeera feel comfortable enough to admit that, no, she did not. 

Sylvanas reached towards her desk after producing something from the between them that had been hidden away in the sash around her waist. A compass, which she placed atop the map she’d most recently been looking at. It was a beautiful piece with some sort of mechanism that caused it to open slowly when Sylvanas pushed the release of it. 

An emblem that Valeera hadn’t seen in years was emblazoned in the gold on the inside of the lid. A phoenix crest that might, at one time, have been painted to match the markers on the ivory inlay beneath the glass of the face of it. “This?” Sylvanas asked. 

Valeera nodded. “We’re going South.” 

“South, South West.” Sylvanas corrected gently before her fingertips trailed across the map. “We found you here.” Her finger paused just off the coast of Revantusk Village. “In the Forbidding Sea. Now, we’re here.” Her finger slid down the map towards the waters beside the Blasted Lands. “Approximately. Heading for the South Seas and for Booty Bay. I promised Warren I would let him have a cat.”

Valeera took all this in once she was finally done laughing at the idea of the grumbly man she’d met below deck wanting a cat, her eyes occasionally flicking from the compass back to the map. “How do you know that? Where we are? Where we’re going?” 

Sylvanas smiled and drew some of Valeera’s hair behind her so she could better see past her as she reached for a piece of paper unlike any Valeera had ever seen. It was completely clear. That was, until Sylvanas laid it over top of the map they’d been studying. Then Valeera watched as, before her very eyes, little lines and dots began to spark into life as Sylvanas’s hand passed over them.

Stars. This was a map of the sky. Yet...it wasn’t still. Not entirely. It seemed to move almost imperceptibly. 

“You see here?” Sylvanas pointed to one rather bright star in particular. “This is the Felo’melorn constellation, and the star at the very tip of the dagger never moves in the night sky.” 

Valeera realized after a moment of stillness and watching the enchanted map that Sylvanas was right. Even as all the other pinpoints of light shifted minutely, that one remained steadfast. “This star is why I don’t really use these maps for navigation. Maps can be slightly off. Slightly inaccurate. Not terribly, no. Our people were quite adept at map-making. But enough. Enough for us to gouge our hull on a reef or miss a port by a league or two. The stars, though...the stars are always true.” 

Valeera blinked as Sylvanas’s hand left the desk and the map was suddenly nothing more than a clear sheet overlaying what it covered once again. Soon thereafter, Sylvanas collected her compass and stood, carefully helping Valeera to her feet. She was surprised to find them steadier than she’d expected to. This wasn’t a particularly gentle night for sailing. “Sea legs already, then?” Sylvanas asked as she fixed Valeera’s shirt and the young woman laughed quietly. 

“I suppose so.” 

“Perfect. Then you’ll walk with me?” 

Valeera supposed she might eventually get used to being surprised by this woman. Maybe. “Yes, of course.” 

“Good,” Sylvanas replied simply and led Valeera through her cabin door and out onto the deck. 

They hadn’t made it more than a few steps when a woman paused near them on her way towards the very cabin she’d just left. 

Valeera gathered...a lot from the way they looked at each other. She couldn’t help the flash of concern her assumptions brought along with them. 

“Velonara.” Sylvanas greeted - making no attempt to hide the warmth in her voice. 

“Captain.” Velonara greeted before she turned her attention to Valeera. “You look much better, Valeera. It’s so good to see you on your feet.”

“Thank you...ah…” Valeera floundered for words that couldn’t possibly have been there. She’d never met this woman. Not that she could remember, anyway. 

“Master Gunner.” Sylvanas supplied easily. 

Fuck. “Master Gunner.” 

“Velonara is fine for now.” She offered good-naturedly. “You’ll come to learn that our titles are...situational, almost. We still use our names more often than not. Though, you’d do well to remember both. This isn’t always a peaceful venture, and there are times it’s easier to identify each other by rank and position.” 

“That makes sense.” Valeera replied, feeling just a touch more at ease. 

“Will you be coming to bed tonight?” Velonara asked as she turned her attention back to Sylvanas. 

“Soon.” Sylvanas replied. “We’re going for a walk, first.” 

“Stargazing, then?” Velonara asked, smiling as Sylvanas nodded. She reached out to graze the fading bite mark on the side of her lover’s neck and Valeera was fairly certain she would like nothing more than to melt through the deck. 

“Cute.” 

Valeera must have been staring. There was no other explanation for the wink Velonara gave her before she continued on her way. 

“Ignore her.” Sylvanas said after her amused laughter died down and she began walking again once she was sure Valeera would follow. “She likes to tease.” 

They passed less crew than Valeera might have thought. Over the past days, she’d been topside almost exclusively in the daylight hours according to Sylvanas’s wishes. It was safer. Warmer. Even now, Valeera found the sea breeze almost chilly and wondered why it didn’t bother her. 

“Are you cold, Valeera?” Sylvanas asked quietly as she looked over at her. 

“No.” She answered, her brow furrowing in confusion. 

“You’re just getting used to it all, now. Don’t fret.” Sylvanas nodded her head at Cyndia as they passed the helm, and she nodded at them in return. 

They walked until they were nearly to the bowsprit, and the length of that walk had left Valeera in awe of the sheer magnitude of the ship. Yet, it was nothing compared to the vastness of the seas that stretched before them. 

“Can you find it, now?” Sylvanas asked as she rested one of her hands on the nearby railing - tracing the still finely polished wood with her fingertips. 

“The dagger?” Valeera asked as she turned her gaze upward and looked for a while before lifting a hand to gesture towards what she’d been searching for. “There.”

“That was quick, Valeera. Very good. Come here.” 

Valeera moved towards Sylvanas and stayed still as she stood and shifted to stand behind her. “Now give me your hand.” As Valeera lifted her hand, Sylvanas took it and guided it towards the sky, lowering her chin against the younger woman’s shoulder so she could see what Valeera was seeing. 

“Your thumb fully extended, here. Just at the horizon. Where the sea meets the sky.” Valeera nodded and Sylvanas continued, brushing her thumb across Valeera’s pinky finger. “This finger - the width of it how you’re holding it now - is one degree. Now, find the dagger’s tip with the inside of the triangle you’ve made with your hand.” 

Valeera adjusted her hand in careful, small movements until she’d found it. “Now, you count how many pinky-widths to find our longitude.” 

It took her a moment, but the first number Valeera uttered brought a smile to Sylvanas’s face. “Good. Very good, Valeera.” 

Sylvanas guided her hand back down and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning her around so she could see her face. “Now, you know where to find me if you’re ever feeling the way you felt tonight, yes?” 

Valeera nodded. 

“Never be afraid to come to me. Can you find your hammock on your own?” 

Valeera sighed. A content, quiet sigh. “That, at least, I can manage.” 

When they parted ways, Valeera felt lighter than she had in...well, she couldn’t remember ever having felt like this. When she got to her hammock, though, the feeling shifted into something truly alien when she saw a book resting atop the chest she kept her few belongings in. A book on star-reading. 

As she picked it up and held it carefully in her hands, she couldn’t - for the life of her - figure out how Sylvanas had managed to get it here. 

Only she hadn’t. In fact, Velonara was still smiling about it when Sylvanas walked into her cabin and pressed the door shut behind herself. 

“I brought your book to your new one.” She said as she lounged back in the small bed they’d no doubt soon be sharing. 

“Thank you, Velonara. I think she’s got a knack for it.”

Velonara nodded. “Good, good. We haven’t had a decent navigator since we lost Kalira.” 

Sylvanas’s mood sobered somewhat, then, and she made her way towards the bed to sit near enough to Velonara that the other woman could touch her. The way Velonara’s hand stroked along her side had her moving closer almost immediately, and Velonara made room for Sylvanas to lay with her before she wrapped an arm around her and kissed the nape of her neck.

“Are we still being followed?” Sylvanas asked as she turned in Velonara’s arms and accepted the kiss that was brushed against her lips. 

“Yes. Two days now. We could let them catch us tonight, you know. Wouldn’t even have to wake half the crew when they did. It’s just a galleon and a small one at that. I saw the sails as the sun rose this morning.”

“We’ll turn tomorrow. Give them a fighting chance, at least.” Sylvanas’s tone was almost playful in a way that brought a smirk to Velonara’s lips. 

“We could give them a hundred tomorrows and they still wouldn’t.” 

“True enough,” Sylvanas replied. 

“You just want to show off, don’t you, Captain?” Velonara asked as she toyed with the sash around her waist before gripping it to draw her closer. 

“It is rather fun, yes.” 

“Tomorrow it is, then.”


	3. Fluffy

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/48321998036/in/dateposted-public/)

“What’s going to happen?” Valeera both sounded and looked so worried that Sylvanas couldn’t help but reach out to cradle her face in response. 

“You’re going to go below deck and we are going to sink this ship.” She responded evenly - easily heard in the relative quiet of the Captain’s cabin despite the orders being shouted outside by a voice Valeera now recognized as Lor’themar’s. “And I’ll come find you myself when it’s done. You have my word.” 

Valeera pressed her face into the cool comfort of Sylvanas’s palm and nodded as she swallowed thickly.

“Foresails up! Main and mizzen hard to port!” The ship lurched almost violently as Lor’themar’s orders were carried out outside. The wood of its construction creaked in protest but held fast. Sylvanas caught her before she could lose her footing. 

“Go. Now, Valeera.” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

Sylvanas walked out after her and made her way to the wheel, though her eyes were all around them. Focusing sharply on the sails of their enemy in the distance. 

“Captain?” Cyndia asked as her hands gripped the wheel tightly. 

“I want us positioned for a broadside.” Sylvanas responded.

“Yes, Captain.” 

“Master Gunner!” Sylvanas shouted as she turned, the tails of her coat whipping in the wind as it caught the sails of their ship and drove them into the tight turn Sylvanas had wanted. 

Velonara was there at her side quickly, her eyes leveled on Sylvanas and her mouth hardened into a thin line. 

“Are your archers at the ready?” 

“They are, captain.” 

“And the cannons?” Sylvanas finally turned her attention to Velonara and the other woman nodded. 

“Very good. Let’s get on with it, then.” 

Velonara took a few steps back before turning to see to her duties. They were approaching the ship that had been tailing them with unnatural speed. Sylvanas could see them scrambling even from here. Perhaps they hadn’t known who they’d been chasing. Perhaps not. It no longer mattered. 

Not when the light that had been glinting warmly off the crests of the waves they were plowing through began to evaporate. Not when their sails began to raise at Lor’themar’s behest and they started to slow. 

In fact, they were dangerously close to their enemies by the time they stopped. 

Yet the fog that Sylvanas had called down over them saw to it that they had no idea. 

It was almost terrifyingly silent. Just the creaking of rigging, now. The muffled, far-off shouts of the crew of the vessel they were poised to attack. A crew that could see no more than an inch in front of their face. 

Yet, there were countless archers in the rigging of Death’s Chill who could see them perfectly. Countless cannons loaded and ready to fire. 

Always the perfect trap. Every time. 

Half their crew fell in the first wave of arrows. Whizzing through the fog and finding their marks. 

The unexplainable deaths brought about an almost immediate panic. And in that panic, cannon fire. So rapid and so powerful that even their own ship rocked with the force of it. The battle was over before it had even begun. 

Only when she saw the ship hanging to low in the water - only when she could hear that there was little more activity coming from their enemies than death rattles - did Sylvanas allow the winds to carry away the fog. 

Sylvanas’s hands rested on the railing as she took in the destruction. 

She knew Warren would be topside soon, so she was unsurprised to hear him shuffling up next to her a moment or two later. “See what you can salvage. Looks like she wasn’t too impressive a ship, but I know you’re agitated about that rigging you lost.” 

Warren looked down in a way that suggested he might have raised a brow if he had one. “Unlikely. But you know how I like to plunder.” 

Sylvanas chuckled and her mood finally lightened in response to his particular brand of humor. One that she’d always found enjoyable. “Perhaps you’ll find yourself a cat.” 

That seemed to please him more than anything else did right then. 

When Sylvanas turned, however, she was surprised to see Valeera standing only a few paces back looking rather stunned. She moved towards her with a slightly questioning tilt of her head. “Valeera, I told you to stay down below.” 

Valeera finally managed to turn her gaze from the sinking ship across from them to her Captain. “What was that?” 

Sylvanas sighed. “This is no ordinary ship, Valeera. I am no ordinary Captain. I told you. You’re safe here.” 

Just as Valeera seemed to begin to relax, Sylvanas’s attention was drawn away. 

“Captain!” 

She turned on her heel to see Warren hailing her. 

“There’s one alive! Looks like the Captain!” 

Sylvanas scoffed and left Valeera’s side to join Warren as the human man clung to the rope that had been thrown to him. 

“Witch!” The bearded man used some of his last reserves to scream up at her. “Coward!” 

“Perhaps.” Sylvanas called down to him. “And your name is?” 

He sputtered as the waves threatened to overtake him yet again. 

“Your name or I let you drown. The choice is yours.”

“Nathanos! Nathanos Marris.” 

“And now who is the coward? Imagine. A Captain afraid of an honorable death beneath the waves.” Sylvanas scoffed as he looked up at her with hatred burning in his eyes. 

“You evil bitch!” He shouted - his voice hoarse and his hands quickly losing their grip on the rope he was holding. 

Sylvanas laughed quietly. “Pull him up. I like him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liadrin panted hoarsely as the hands holding her arms behind her back tightened. Her fangs were bared and the blood seeping from the cut through her brow just above her left eye had begun seeping into the cloth of the patch that covered it. 

Just before another blow could come from her attacker, through the drunken muddle of her thoughts, she heard a woman’s voice. 

“Daddy, she looks like she’d be a lot of fun.” 

The blow never came. The barkeep continued to refuse to acknowledge what was happening. And a rather wealthy looking man approached from where he’d been watching. “Enough.” 

She felt the hold on her arms slacken and she almost fell to her knees. Even through the alcohol, she hurt. God, she hurt. 

“My daughter and her friend here think they’d like this one’s company for the night.” 

Liadrin released a shuddering breath and turned her gaze towards the man, and then towards his smirking daughter and the rather shy looking woman at her side. Then, she tugged herself away from the man that had been holding her and straightened her jacket. 

“Who’d you steal that from?” The man who was currently rubbing his aching fists asked as he stared at the crimson coat. It had once been magnificent. That much he could tell. 

“No one.” Liadrin grated out through clenched teeth. 

“She’s got some fight in here.” The father of the girl said as he cast a glance in his daughter’s direction. “Too much?” 

The young woman stood, finally, and approached. Liadrin only smirked at her as she swayed slightly where she stood. 

“I think she’s just right.” 

Liadrin had reached a point, long ago, where she’d have done anything for a warm meal and a soft bed. Sometimes, that landed her in a fight. Sometimes, a bed. Tonight - at least - it turned out to be both. 

Only it didn’t. Not really. She’d scarcely caught her breath when she found herself being non-too-ceremoniously helped out into the darkened streets of Booty Bay. Exhausted. Hungry. Done. 

“You don’t have a couch? A fucking floor?” She demanded as she skidded to a stop outside only to find her jacket thrown into her face. 

“You’re lucky I let you in my home.” The man of the house said from the door, narrowing his eyes as if he was daring her to say something else. 

“Lucky?” Liadrin demanded with an intentionally abrasive laugh. “Your daughter and her friend are the lucky ones. I hope she remembers what it was like to orgasm when you inevitably marry her off.” 

He started toward her. This was it. It would finally be over. She _welcomed_ it.

Until his attention was averted down the dark, cobbled road. Until yelling could be heard as the strange color of an approaching ship’s lanterns came into view. The door slammed shut before she could even look back at the man. Red. The lanterns were red. 

Liadrin tried to clear her vision. She tried to focus on the ship. It looked so familiar in the distance. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be…

She didn’t even notice the young sailor running in her direction until he knocked her down in his panic. She considered staying there in the stagnant, watery mud she’d found herself face-down in. 

For some reason, though...perhaps stubbornness she wasn’t aware she yet had left, she dragged herself out of the street and into a nearby alley, shivering violently as she wrapped herself as best she could in her coat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can I go?” Valeera asked hopefully as Sylvanas looked at her pensively from behind her desk.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Valeera. Not yet.” Sylvanas responded, finally. 

Valeera looked more hurt than Sylvanas had expected her to. It was the wilt of her ears, though, that got her. “Please.” 

Sylvanas’s brow furrowed. “You aren’t my prisoner, Valeera. I’m only trying to protect you.” 

Valeera nodded softly. “I understand. I’ll...yeah. I understand.” 

Sylvanas sighed as Valeera turned to leave and cleared her throat before she could. “Find Warren. He might need help locating an appropriate cat.” 

Sylvanas’s attention waned from her previously abandoned tasks after Valeera shot her a rather disarming smile before jogging off to find her company for her evening ashore. It didn’t settle on anything in particular, however. She had nothing to worry about in Booty Bay. Her ship was feared by any that might do her people harm, and those that were like them had nothing but respect for her. They didn’t have much of a choice, but the respect was there, nonetheless. 

“Don’t worry so, Sylvanas.” 

Sylvanas’s eyes lifted slowly to the woman in her doorway and to the soft curve of her lips. “Warren would never let anything happen to her. It would displease you.” 

“You aren’t going with the rest? You’ve earned a night off, Velonara.” Sylvanas responded quietly as she leaned back in her desk chair. 

“I have. That much is true. I’d rather spend it right here with you than anywhere else.” 

Velonara’s usually hard expression was soft and welcoming as Sylvanas stood and moved to shut the door behind her. “What can I do for you this evening, then?” She asked as Velonara pulled her close by the lapels of her jacket. 

“You can relax.” Velonara replied as her hands slid down the dark leather of the coat slowly, one of them coming to rest along the pommel of her cutlass rather suggestively. 

Sylvanas glanced down and watched as Velonara circled the jeweled tip of it with her thumb and the other hand found the large, brass buckle of the belt that held the heavy weapon at her hip. “Tease.”

“I don't tease, Sylvanas. You know that. How long has it been, now, since I've had you all to myself? Since prying ears were ashore and you could worship my name appropriately? Hm? ...Captain?”

Sylvanas lifted her eyes slowly as she traced Velonara’s hands with her fingertips and felt the weight of her belt and sword leave her. Velonara removed it as carefully as she always did, along with the gun belt that was slung a little lower on her hips than the first one had been. Then her jacket. All with care. Patience. The slow ease of her movements drew Sylvanas into a kind of daze - one so languid and hazy she scarcely noticed Velonara leading her to the bed until she was laying beneath the other woman looking up at her. 

“Too long.” Velonara finally said when Sylvanas didn’t answer her. “Clearly. Are you here with me, Syl?” 

“Absolutely.” Sylvanas answered, only now realizing she was already a touch breathless. Breathlessness which only grew worse as she felt a strong, slender thigh part her legs and settle between them heavily. 

With every movement, Velonara reaffirmed that she was in no hurry. From the way she leaned onto her side to stroke through Sylvanas’s hair to the way she fist touched their lips together. A slow claiming of her Captain’s mouth that drifted from something that burned with fiery passion back into slow nips and brushes of lips against lips. 

When Sylvanas finally began drawing her shirt up her body, Velonara helped her with it - discarding it onto the floor as a shiver ran the course of her spine in response to the graze of fingertips over her breast. Teasing ever so slightly against her nipple. Then, it was more. Nails dragging tantalizing lines down the pallid, yet flawless skin of her side. 

“You’re supposed to relax.” Velonara chided gently, breathlessly against Sylvanas’s jaw before nibbling it. “Remember?” 

“I am.” Sylvanas murmured as she tilted her head to the side when nibbles turned into pleasant, stinging bites along the side of her neck. “The most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.” 

“Oh, dear.” Velonara whispered as she ran her tongue along a particularly angry looking bite mark, soothing the sting away with cool wetness that became that much cooler once her tongue left it. “Too relaxed, perhaps. I don’t need you falling asleep on me.” 

Sylvanas had been about to argue that she wouldn’t when Velonara’s other thigh joined her first and she found her legs spreading further - allowing the woman’s hips between them. A shuddering groan that she had little hope of controlling left her when Velonara rolled her hips in such a way that it lit a fire in her veins. Made her need Velonara desperately. 

It wasn’t long before the gentle creaking of the anchored ship was drowned out by Sylvanas’s desperate breathing. By protests of the bed and breathless, broken moans. Velonara’s hands were unlike anyone else’s in the ways that they knew her. Just how wide to stretch her - until there was the barest hint of sting - and just deep enough to soothe the wanting ache that had settled firmly in the core of her being since she first saw Velonara that evening. 

Yet, Velonara was nothing if not contrasting. For each firm, rough thrust of her fingers came a breathless, heated murmur of love and adoration against Sylvanas’s ear. Sometimes, though, the words matched the heat of her tone. A short, breathless “harder?” That Sylvanas could only respond to with a quick nod and a digging of her nails into Velonara’s back. 

“Vel…” She gasped out as her eyes rolled and she reached up to grip the sturdy hewn wood of the headboard of a bed that was, thankfully, bolted to the floor of her cabin. 

“I know you can take me, Sylvanas.” Velonara mumbled against her cheek amidst short, sharp puffs of breath. “And so beautifully. Do you hear yourself? The...the way you say my name?” 

She shifted slightly, then - pressing the heel of her palm into Sylvanas’s clit and curling her fingers quickly and firmly as her hips continued rocking. “Do you know what my favorite part is?” 

Sylvanas gasped sharply and shook her head as she tried to rock her hips into that hand as best she could. “Tell me.” 

“You move so elegantly.” Velonara was almost as breathless as Sylvanas was, now. “You walk the decks of your ship with more grace...with more grace than most people walk on dry land.” 

Velonara felt Sylvanas tightening around her fingers. She had learned long ago what the deep, soft murmur of her voice did to her. How much she enjoyed hearing it. Especially at times like this. Especially just beneath her ear against her jaw where she was most sensitive. 

“But my favorite part is when you don’t, anymore. When you start to fall apart.” She continued, rolling her palm slowly, now. Firmly. Allowing Sylvanas to try and move against it. “When I can feel your muscles tense and your body jerk.” Velonara allowed her fang to catch against Sylvanas’s ear, then. “When you get so tight I can scarcely move.” 

Sylvanas’s breaths were catching each and every time now. Every murmured statement from Velonara was answered with a soft tremor of a whimper. 

“I love the way you come for me.” 

And, oh, did she come. Almost as soon as those words left Velonara’s lips against her skin. She arched strongly from the bed and her hand tore from the headboard to grip Velonara’s hair. To turn them over forcefully so that Velonara was on her back and she could grind out the rest of her orgasm against her hand until she was collapsing into her in an unceremonious heap. 

Velonara smiled lazily as she held Sylvanas’s head against her chest. There might have even been a hint of smugness there, as Sylvanas ran trembling, appreciative fingertips over her hip and down her thigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valeera was enjoying herself. She really was. Warren seemed strangely popular here. They were greeted warmly at a rather seedy little bar and inn that seemed to cater to their kind. To...pirates. Yeah. That’s what she was now. That realization had made her smile a little. Almost as much as Warren’s dry little jabs and observations of some of the other inhabitants of the bar. 

“You look bored.” Valeera observed over the rim of her mug as she watched Warren glance around the crowded, smoky room. 

“Not bored.” Warren corrected. “Just thinking.” 

“About your cat?” Valeera asked with a little smile. 

He grated out a laugh as he winked at her and sat his own mug down. “Maybe a little. Also thinking about how fun it would be to crash the merchant bar up the way. They’re scared of us, you know.” 

“Are they?” Valeera asked with a faint furrow of her brow. 

“Oh, yes. Quite scared. Well...maybe not us, in particular. But certainly scared of who we belong to.”

“She isn’t scary.” Valeera sounded almost hurt as Warren regarded her, seemingly deep in thought for a moment before he decided against ruining whatever image their Captain had chosen to present for her. 

“Not to us, no. You’re right, of course. It’s only that we’re very safe because of her, that’s all.” 

Valeera nodded her understanding and moved to stand up before her face fell. “I...I don’t have any gold.”

Warren chuckled in amusement as he stood, as well. “We don’t pay, here.” 

Valeera glanced towards the Goblin barkeep who only gave her a nod and a wink in return before she followed Warren out into the street. 

After a little poking around in trash bins, Valeera walked beside him down yet another alley and watched curiously as he peered into various gutters. “What...what kind of cat are you looking for?” She asked with a lift of one of her brows. 

“The perfect one.” He responded simply. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“In...a gutter?”

“Yep.” 

Valeera glanced around and nodded. He seemed so excited she found herself not wanting to discourage him. It was almost cute. It was definitely amusing. 

If slightly boring. So, she found herself wandering away from him now and then. Never too far, though. He seemed to panic when she did that. On one of her little excursions, however, she saw a flash of red huddled against the filth of an alley wall and she tilted her head as she tried to make it out through the darkness and grime. 

“I found it!” She nearly jumped out of her skin as Warren popped up out of a trash heap trying his best to grin. It would have been terrifying if he weren’t so proud. 

“Warren, it’s…” She winced as she saw bone where the furry tip of its tail should have been. As she saw it was missing an eye, on top of it. Dead. It was dead. For...a long time, apparently. 

“Perfect.” Warren finished for her as he looked down at it. 

“Uh...uh huh.” 

A groan distracted her. Pulled her attention back up the alley until her eyes caught movement. “I’ll...I’ll be right back, Warren.” 

Warren eyed her curiously as she made her way towards the noise cautiously. The last thing she’d expected to find was an elf. She hadn’t seen one in years outside of Sylvanas’s ship. And this one...oh, god, this one… A shaking mess. Caked in blood and dirt and wrapped in what had once been a jacket Valeera recognized would have belonged to someone of rank. Someone of quite high a rank, indeed. 

Valeera couldn’t help but move to her knees beside the huddled figure and when she turned it over, she wasn’t prepared for the panicked strength of the grip grip on her wrists. The bared fangs. The seething breaths and the burning of a single hazy, ruddy golden eye. 

Warren managed to draw his sword without dropping his cat. “Unhand her! Unhand her this instant!” 

“No!” Valeera shouted as her eyes shot in his direction. “She’s hurt! Don’t!” 

Warren stopped his advance and shuffled in confusion where he stood. “Well, she best let go of you, then.” 

The warning in his voice wasn’t what had Liadrin loosening her grip. It was the exhaustion. It was the lack of will to continue on as she had been. “Leave me.” She husked, dragging one of her legs towards herself in an attempt to stand...but she couldn’t. 

“Warren, we have to get her to the ship.” 

“Oh, no no no no. No, we most certainly do not.” 

“Warren!” She exclaimed - though both their attention was drawn towards the woman on the ground when next she spoke.

“Please stop the singing.” A shudder wracked her body and she lifted her hands to her ears. “Make it stop. Make it...I’m begging you…” She coughed, then. A cough that sounded more like a rattle than anything else. 

Warren’s eyes widened and he looked from the broken woman to the confusion on Valeera’s face. 

“She’s going mad, Warren. She’s dying. Please. We have to help her.” 

Warren shuffled closer, then - knowing all too well that, yes, she was dying. And that, no, she wasn’t going mad. “We’ll get her a room. See to it that she’s taken care of for a few days. Get her back on her feet. But under no circumstances is she to be brought to the ship.” 

It took both of them to get her up. Warren tucked his...cat into the pouch at his belt and did his best in his hunched over position to half-drag the elven woman back towards the bar they’d just left. It took some maneuvering, but eventually, they had her in a bed upstairs and Valeera ignored the impatient way in which Warren waited by the door as she reached for the wash basin nearby. 

“We have to leave, Valeera.” He said - albeit quietly. 

“Let me wash her up, Warren. Please.” 

He huffed and cast a worried glance towards the door. “We need to get back. We need to get back before sunrise.” 

Valeera ignored him again and began washing the cut above Liadrin’s eye patch. When she went to move it, however, she found another terrifyingly strong grip stopping her. A grip that fell away just as quickly, now, as it had the first time. 

“You...you should have left me.” Liadrin whispered weakly before turning away. 

“Tell me your name.” Valeera pleaded softly. “I won’t let you die here. I won’t.” 

“I don’t have a name anymore.” Liadrin mumbled as the far-off melody that she couldn’t place only drove the ache in her head that much deeper. She’d been hearing it for days now. All the time. Only the alcohol dulled it. Only the very real physical pain of punches thrown and landed against her increasingly weakened body. 

Valeera feared the worst when the woman stopped moving soon thereafter, but the very subtle rising and falling of her sides drew a sigh of relief from her. She looked almost pitiful as she glanced over at Warren. “Valeera…they’ll be bringing her some dinner shortly. They’ll take care of her. We have to leave.” 

“I’ll be out in a moment, then.” Valeera responded, trying her best to push any and all emotion from her voice. “You shouldn’t see me undress her.” 

Warren might have blushed as Valeera began unbuttoning the woman’s tattered trousers if he could have. He did scramble from the room rather quickly, though, as Valeera watched him from the corner of her eye. Her hands shifted immediately to the mess that was left of Liadrin’s jacket and she tucked it quickly into her bag before buckling it closed. 

She saw a flutter of the woman’s lashes. A faint slit of the golden glow of her eye. 

“I’ll bring it back to you. I promise.” Valeera whispered. “Maybe then you’ll tell me your name.” 

Liadrin was quiet as she watched Valeera leave. It wasn’t until she was gone that she noticed the singing had finally stopped. Finally. It had grown deafening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You...wouldn’t rather have a fresher one?” Sylvanas asked with a quirk of her brow as Velonara snorted quietly from behind her, though she hadn’t stopped running the brush through Sylvanas’s hair. Warren was one of the few members of the crew who was privy to such sights. Mostly because he couldn’t care less about seeing them.

In fact, he was much more concerned with the rotting corpse he was holding in his hands like it was worth its weight in gold. “Of course not. He’s perfect.” 

Sylvanas drew in a deep breath and shook her head before staring up at the ceiling. “Velonara, my love, do you suppose it’s bad luck to have a cat with protruding bones on a ship?”

“I don’t suppose so, no, Captain.” Velonara replied as a smile played on her lips. 

Warren looked up at Sylvanas hopefully and she lifted one of her hands, gesturing slowly in Warren’s direction. “And what will his name be, Warren?”

“Fluffy.” 

“Ridiculous.” Sylvanas replied, though it was difficult not to laugh at the irony. 

Warren might have looked hurt had he not gasped when he feared he dropped the cat, only to look down in time to see him weaving figure-eights around his legs. He really was perfect. From the one glowing eye that peered up at him to the bony tail-tip that wrapped lightly around his equally bony leg. His coat, at least, looked a touch better. A little less patchy. He’d probably been quite lovely in life. A Bombay whose fur must have been sleek and shining, but was now so dull that he almost blended into the shadows of the dimly Captain’s cabin. 

And then he meowed. A sound more akin to a crackle than a noise any actual cat might make. “I love him.” Warren announced immediately, and with such determination that Sylvanas smiled warmly in his direction. 

“Good. Now get him out of my cabin.” 

Warren moved to scoop him up only to find claws digging into his coat as the cat instead made his way to his shoulders, where he seemed quite at home. And Warren was fine with that. It was better than having him weaving about his legs. He didn’t need anything more to trip over, after all. His own feet did that for him quite enough as it was. 

“Before you go…”

He froze immediately. 

“How was Valeera’s visit?”

He cleared his throat as he reached up to give Fluffy a rather nervous scratch against his side. “I...I believe she enjoyed herself. Perhaps ask her about the specifics? It wouldn’t be wise, I think, for me to betray her trust at this juncture. Lest she hide things from me when I’m supposed to be watching her.” 

“Wise. Alright. I’ll see to her later. Enjoy your friend, Warren. You were made for each other.” 

“Do you think so?” Warren asked with a terrible chuckle and an even more terrible grin. 

“Oh, absolutely.”


	4. Lord Admiral

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/48321998036/in/dateposted-public/)

“Valeera...we need to have a talk.” 

Valeera froze with the jacket in her hands and stared down at it for a long time before she finally looked up. She didn’t bother asking how Sylvanas had snuck up on her where she’d been trying her best to mend it in her cot. Sylvanas did a lot of things that didn’t make much logical sense. She’d accepted it by now. “Yes, Captain.” 

“That looks like a very nice jacket.” Sylvanas continued as she sat down slowly in the hammock next to Valeera and looked at her. There wasn’t any harshness in her tone or in her eyes. Valeera was glad for that. “But we don’t steal from ports we’re still anchored at. You understand that, right?” 

“I didn’t s…” Valeera clenched her jaw as she realized it might be bad if Sylvanas knew. That she might be angry if she knew that, for the past two nights, Valeera had been slipping off the ship to see the nameless woman whose jacket she was holding. “I understand. It won’t happen again, Captain.” 

Sylvanas looked into her eyes. It made Valeera’s spine tingle. It made the hairs on her arms raise up before Sylvanas reached for the jacket and took it from her gently. She knew, of course. She knew of Valeera’s late-night trips off the ship. She just didn’t know why. 

She looked for the answer in the worn, barely recognizable piece of regalia in her hands. She inspected it carefully. She drew the side of her thumb over the phoenix emblazoned atop a tarnished, pitted gold button. Gold. Not brass. 

Elven gold. Ah. 

Valeera had found an elf. An important one.

This had been an Officer’s jacket. Though, Sylvanas couldn’t find any sign of what the person’s rank might have been. Any such identifiers had long since been lost. There were no labels, of course. This piece had been hand-tailored. 

“I...I haven’t ever seen velvet so fine.” Valeera said nervously. “I don’t think I’ll be able to repair it. It would never look the same.” 

Sylvanas passed it back to the young woman carefully, brushing her fingertips across material that had once been so familiar to her one last time before she nodded. “Quel’dorei fabric was...in a class of its own. There are probably a great many things you don’t remember about our people, hm?” 

Valeera looked down at the jacket as her face fell. It wasn’t something she liked to try to remember. It was difficult to think of the proud lineage she’d come from...and how it no longer existed. 

Sylvanas rarely felt regret. But she felt it in spades, then. 

“I’ll send some down for you. You can work on it if you like.” 

Valeera turned a cautious smile in Sylvanas’s direction. “I really would. Thank you.” 

“Of course,” Sylvanas responded as she stood.

True to her word, it wasn’t long before she saw Warren approaching from the corner of her eye with a carefully wrapped bundle in her arms, high enough that the strings wouldn’t attract the battered-looking cat walking at his heels. “Careful with that stuff.” He grated out as Valeera took it from him. “Probably some of the last of it left on Azeroth.” 

Valeera got to work right away. And she had never been more careful in her life. 

“Who do you think it is?” Velonara asked quietly from where she stood behind Sylvanas at her desk, grazing the length of her ear with kisses meant to calm and distract. 

“I have no idea.”

“But you mean to find out.” Velonara continued as Sylvanas slowly turned her head and tilted her chin up for a lingering kiss. 

“Of course, I do.”

“You probably have the girl thinking you’re a Saint, giving her that cloth.” 

“I didn’t only give it to her so that she would lead me to whoever it is she’s been seeing, you know. I do care.” 

Velonara nodded and helped Sylvanas into her jacket. A formal one, this time. One of fine black and red leather, though the red was deep and ruddy. More akin to dried blood than any sort of crimson. 

It wasn’t often she dressed to intimidate. Usually only when she left the ship - which was an incredibly rare occasion. But this one called for it. She painted a striking picture, indeed, as she turned to face Velonara. From the black ruffles of her cuffs to the ones spilling from her collar...all the way down to the gleaming, immaculate saber that hung at her hip...she looked every bit the Captain she was and more. 

“Be careful,” Velonara said when she was done inspecting her. “You don’t know who it is on the other end of this little tryst.”

“Whoever it is...I doubt they’ll be in much shape to do me any harm. She’s far from any sort of supplemental magic. And you didn’t see that jacket. If I had to guess, I’d say she came here to die. It reeked of liquor and blood. Of filth.” 

Velonara was silent in thought for a moment. There were precious few alternative conclusions to come to. It took a lot to make one of their people stop caring about their appearance. And if that was a Naval coat, well...how long had it been since their last military vessel had been sunk? 

“The girl must see something worth saving in her, Sylvanas.” Velonara offered with a faint furrow of her brow. 

“The girl is lonely,” Sylvanas replied gently. “I won’t fault her for that. I was lost once, too.” 

Velonara felt a sudden, unexpected ache in her chest. She remembered the Sylvanas of old far too well to not feel it. She’d seen her suffer deeply when she’d first boarded this ship. She’d seen her hide it. She’d chipped away for years at the walls she’d thought kept her safe. 

And now, as she cradled her Captain’s cheek in one hand and brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth, she reassured her that she needn’t ever be lost again without so much as a word, because Velonara would be just as lost were it not for her. 

From the moment Sylvanas’s boots first hit the dock, everything seemed to shift slightly. There were some that knew her, of course. The few people who didn’t avert their eyes. Perhaps they even lifted a hand in her direction. 

A great majority of the inhabitants of the port, however, avoided her like she was a walking death sentence. Perhaps that’s because, for all intents and purposes, that’s what she was. Windows were shuddered against her approach. Doors were shut and latches latched. 

It didn’t bother her. On the contrary, things were as they should be. She needed her ship...her very presence...to be feared. So she could keep her crew safe. Her people. What was left of them. They were her responsibility. 

Even the bar her crew visited every time they achored her grey unusually quiet upon her entrance. She certainly wasn’t a familiar face, there. She’d always preferred to do her drinking on the ship. 

That’s why, when she approached the bar, the barkeep tilted her head slightly in curiosity. 

“What, uh...what can I do you for, Cap’n?” 

Sylvanas regarded the young Goblin woman evenly for a moment before she responded. 

“Looking for one of my girls. I need you to tell me where she is.” 

“Upstairs. Last room. Got a drunk up there with her.” 

Sylvanas placed a pouch on the counter, and the heft of it along with the sound drew the barkeeper’s attention. “Oh, your gold, uh...it isn’t…” 

“It is. Keep it.” Sylvanas responded before she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liadrin groaned despite the fact that Valeera had opened the door to her room as quietly as possible. Both the sound and the light she’d let in had been nearly unbearable. 

“I’m sorry.” Valeera whispered as worry flooded her. Liadrin still didn’t look better, despite being clean. In fact, she looked worse without the dirt to cover the darkness beneath her eyes and the too-slender quality of her face. 

Liadrin forced herself up, at least a little, in bed. Just enough to be able to see her. “Why are you here?” She asked as her eyelid threatened to droop shut, though she managed to force them open again quickly. 

“I was here last night, too. Do you remember?” 

Liadrin tried. She tried to remember. She just couldn’t. 

Watching it was too much for Valeera, who opened her bag and pulled out the coat she’d been working on for the better part of two days. She approached slowly and reached out to lay across Liadrin’s stomach. Liadrin was stunned. That much was obvious. So much so, that Valeera risked sitting down next to her. She was relieved when Liadrin didn’t turn away. 

She was surprised when Liadrin reached out to touch her wrist. 

“You must be leaving soon,” Liadrin whispered as Valeera reached out to run a hand through her hair. She hadn’t seen it clean before. She hadn’t even realized it was red. 

“In the morning,” Valeera replied. “That’s why I wanted to finish your coat.” 

Liadrin grunted quietly and nodded, though even that slight movement was awful. “For the best.” 

“Come with us.” Valeera urged softly, touching over the cut through her brow only to realize it hadn’t really been healing at all. 

“No. I’m staying right here.” 

“Tell me your name, then, at least?” Valeera reached for one of the cloths on the bedside table and mopped the light gathering of sweat from Liadrin’s brow, glancing down as she felt a hand pulling at her hip weakly. “You want me to lay with you?” 

“Liadrin.” 

A chill ran up Valeera’s spine as she turned her head towards the door to the voice that had answered. 

“Her name is Liadrin.” 

“Captain…” Valeera breathed, scrambling quickly from the bed and looking from the stunned woman on the bed then back to Sylvanas. 

“I’m not angry with you, Valeera. Give us a moment, if you would. Wait downstairs. I’ll know if you’re listening.” 

Valeera didn’t move at first. Not until she saw something in Sylvanas’s eyes change. Saw them blaze somehow brighter and darker all at once. “Don’t...don’t hurt her. Please.” 

“Of course, not.” Sylvanas wasn’t even looking at Valeera anymore. And Valeera took that opportunity to slip from the room quickly. 

“I didn’t touch her.” Liadrin protested weakly as Sylvanas dragged a chair over to the bedside and plopped down in it, lifting one leg at a time until her ankles were crossed and her heels were on the bed. 

“You don’t look like you’d have been much good at it right now, anyway, so I don’t doubt it.” 

Liadrin might have been offended were it not so true. “How do you know my name?” 

Sylvanas tilted her head and frowned softly as Liadrin tried to focus her eyes on her. “Fuck me, you’re barely hanging on, huh? Why don’t you lift that patch of yours.” 

“No.” Liadrin husked through gritted teeth. 

“Fine.” Sylvanas responded, leaning forward and flipping the patch up with her thumb.   
“Oh.” Sylvanas gasped with a lift of her brow. “No shortage of curses in this room, I see.” 

“You’re dead.” Liadrin mumbled. “You’re...you’re Lireesa’s daughter. And you’re dead.” 

“Mm…” Sylvanas murmured in response with a faint smile. “Interesting. Useful.” 

“Neither of those things. Why do you think I wear this?” Liadrin was so agitated she’d found the strength to speak coherently. 

“Well if those realizations bother you, you might want to leave it where it is when you board my ship,” Sylvanas replied as she moved to stand. She glanced up in Liadrin’s direction as she unhooked a flask from her belt. 

“Mana wine.” She said as she tossed it in the direction of Liadrin’s chest. “Almost no alcohol. I smelled your jacket.” 

“I’m not drinking this and I’m not boarding your ship,” Liadrin said even as she could _feel_ the relief of magic so close to her she could taste it. 

“You are...and you are. That girl down there is important to me, and she seems rather attached. If we set sail and leave you here to do what you came here to do, she’ll likely pine over you for years. It isn’t something I’m willing to watch.” 

“You’re overstepping, Sylvanas.” Liadrin almost hissed her name as she threw the flask with all the strength she had left. Sylvanas caught it tidily. Effortlessly. 

“Alright. Have it your way. Wither to absolutely nothing. Die in your own filth, _Lord Admiral_. But I’ll let you be the one to tell her. She’ll be up shortly. Oh, and you keep that patch on when you talk to her.” Sylvanas paused in the doorway and let her gaze settle on Liadrin where she lay in the bed. “She’s been through enough. She’s had a rough life.” 

“We all have,” Liadrin replied as she finally lost the strength to keep holding herself up. 

“Right. So I’ll let you get around to crushing her hopes, then. Why delay the inevitable?” 

Before Liadrin could even begin to protest or defend herself, Sylvanas was gone. She didn’t go far, really. In fact, she was just outside the door again by the time Valeera sat down on the edge of the bed, though neither her nor Liadrin knew it. 

“The Captain said you had something to say to me,” Valeera said as she looked down at her hands in her lap. 

Liadrin winced at the tone of her voice and reached up to touch her arm. “Thank you. Thank you for caring for me and for keeping me company.” 

Valeera turned her attention towards the strange softness of Liadrin’s voice and Liadrin reached up to trace the scarf Valeera wore around her neck, only to pull her hand back as Valeera jerked away. “Don’t...don’t touch me there. I…” Valeera hung her head and and her ear shifted slightly in irritation with herself. 

“What happened?” Liadrin asked as she instead settled on resting her hand weakly against Valeera’s side. 

“I don’t remember,” Valeera replied. “All I know is the Captain saved me.” 

“Before that, then.” 

Valeera was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Sylvanas’s attention fell to the floor in the hallway outside. Then, Liadrin stroked along her side gently. Coaxingly. 

“I could make it good for you, you know. On the ship, I mean. If you came with me.” Valeera finally said. “As soon as you’re better. Every night. Whatever you want.”

“You don’t know me,” Liadrin whispered. She considered telling her she could do better. That she likely deserved better. It was just difficult to say that considering the implications of her offer. Even a half-dead waste of an elf would likely be better than what she was used to. 

“I understand.” Valeera finally said quietly. “I think...sometimes I was like you, too. Hoping it would all just end. I think the not having a home part was the worst of it. So I understand.” 

“Is it like that, still? Does it still hurt? Knowing none of it’s there anymore? Knowing you have nowhere to go back to?” 

“No, not really,” Valeera responded. “It gets lonely, you know. But not like before. It’s nothing like before. I’ve never really known what it’s like to have a home, but I think this is probably pretty close.” 

Liadrin almost gasped when Valeera reached for her hand. Sure, she’d had plenty of...intimate nights, if that’s what you wanted to call them since she’d lost her fleet. But it had been...god, she didn’t know how long it’d been since someone had touched her like this. Twined their fingers with her own and stroked over her scarred knuckles. 

“But I should go. I’ve never been much good at changing peoples minds, and if you keep looking at me like that it’s just going to make things worse.”

“Take me with you,” Liadrin responded before she even thought the words. Yet she didn’t regret them. 

Valeera’s eyes darted up to catch Liadrin’s expression. One of earnestness. Exhaustion. Perhaps no small amount of longing. “Are you sure?”

“Hell, no I’m not sure. But it’s worth a shot.” 

If Valeera appreciated anything in this world, it was people being honest with her. And that was quite a healthy dose of honesty. “Alright. Let’s get you up, then. Can you walk?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valeera hadn’t expected to find Sylvanas helping them down the stairwell. It was almost as if she’d materialized out of nowhere. But she appreciated it. As thin as Liadrin was, she was still hefty to carry by herself, and she stumbled more often than not. 

If Sylvanas minded, she didn’t say. When they were back on the ship, however, she was thankful to find Velonara approaching them. “Get her to a room with a cot.” She said as she placed Liadrin’s arm around Velonara’s shoulder. “You know what medicines she’ll need, and I’m certain Valeera knows a thing or two about caring for someone in this state. Unless I’m wrong.” 

“Drunk sailors?” Valeera asked with a faint lift of her brow. “Something I’m finally capable of handling.” 

Sylvanas laughed quietly. A laugh that was genuine and warm if not a little tired. If it had been her business to share, she might have asked Valeera how she felt about handling drunk Lord Admirals, but she bit her tongue and nodded. “Alright, then. I have business to tend to on the docks before we’re off.”

“You would prefer to go alone, I’m guessing?” Velonara asked - easily recognizing exactly why she’d been assigned such a relatively remedial task. Even if their guest was quite a surprise...and, for some, a sight for sore, surprised eyes. Though, all of that would have to wait. Liadrin was back to being barely conscious, and getting heavier by the minute. 

“I would always prefer to go alone, but I’ll join you soon. Valeera, be sure she drinks that wine, yes? She’ll need a lot of it for a while. Almost as much as she’ll need water.” 

Velonara watched as Sylvanas turned away from them and smiled sadly at her retreating form. Another one, then. Another one she’s convinced she’ll save. 

Although, by the time they got her safely below deck where Valeera could fuss over her in peace, Velonara couldn’t help but wonder if this time might be different. It seemed like it, anyway. Sure, she wasn’t in the best of health. But...maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should stop complaining, you know,” Warren said as both he and Fluffy watched Nathanos labor away at the netting he’d been given to mend. “You’re lucky you’re alive.” 

“You call this luck, zombie boy?” Nathanos grumbled as he looked up at Warren, who only laughed in amusement. 

“Zombie boy. I like that. How about you, Fluffy?” He looked over at the cat and reached up to give him a little pat, which he seemed to appreciate. Marginally, at least. 

“Do you think you can keep me down here? Hm? Like some washed-up cabin boy? Mending your ropes and your sails for all of eternity? I’ll find her. I will. I’ll find that witch.” 

Warren’s expression sobered somewhat at that. It grew almost angry until he was chuckling under his breath. That only served to anger him more, until Warren began speaking again. 

“She’ll be the one finding you when she’s ready, I’m sure. And if you don’t shape up, you’ll wish she hadn’t. Try...brushing up on your humor. She likes jokes occasionally. It might make up for how...greasy you look.” 

“Let me out of these shackles and I’ll take care of you before I take care of her.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Warren responded as he patted Nathanos on the shoulder on his way by. “You’re getting there.” 

Nathanos could have sworn the damned cat winked at him. But then, he was also fairly certain he was beginning to lose his mind down here.


	5. A Mermaid So Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Up spoke the captain of our gallant ship  
>  and a fine brave man was he  
> he said, "That fishy mermaid has warned me of our fate"  
> "we shall sleep at the bottom of the sea!"_
> 
> __  
> 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/48321998036/in/dateposted-public/)  


Sylvanas looked around impassively at the empty docks and the dark water beyond. She might have found the way the moonlight danced along the gentle crests of the waves beyond beautiful, once upon a time. She could no longer remember. 

The planks beneath her boots didn't creak as she walked. Perhaps as a result of the state of her being. Perhaps as a result of centuries of being light on her feet. First, in the forests of Quel’Thalas. Then at sea. She was listless tonight. Liadrin’s presence aboard her ship should have comforted her, yet…

The Captain sighed quietly as she came to stand at the edge of the furthest dock from port. Unused. Steeped in disrepair and rubbish. No one would find her here. Well. Someone would. Someone always did.

Sylvanas’s eyes slipped shut as a breeze rustled her hair. Salt air. And then...trees. Grass. The smell of eternal fall. The smell of Home.

And a song. The faintest hints of an ancient melody just before a quiet ripple in the water beneath her feet at the edge of the dock.

“Mother…” Sylvanas breathed as her eyes opened again and she looked down to see Lireesa smiling up at her warmly with her arms folded on the edge.

“Daughter. Sit with me a while.” 

And Sylvanas did. She always, always did. With her legs folded just in front of Lireesa’s arms. 

“Something troubles you.” Lireesa observed as Sylvanas watched her mother's tail shifting just beneath the water - holding her still and steady against the creaking wood she leaned against.

“Don't ask me what.” Sylvanas responded quietly, reaching a hand out and watching as Lireesa's own - dry, somehow - not dripping with the water it had only just emerged from - settled against her palm.

“Be at ease, Sylvanas.” Lireesa urged gently. “The seas are calm tonight. And your watch is nearly ended.” 

Confusion flickered through Sylvanas’s eyes for a moment before she looked towards her ship and then back at her mother. “The Lord Admiral?”

“She is the last.” Lireesa’s voice was sad for a moment. Far-away and echoing. Like a gentle lament. 

Sylvanas swallowed and nodded faintly. “She may yet survive.” 

Lireesa smiled. Sadly, this time. “She has heard my song, Sylvanas. Like all the others.”

“I don't remember the others.” Sylvanas’s brow furrowed and he exhaled. A short, frustrated sound that caused Lireesa to squeeze her hand.

“We all have our burdens to shoulder. Our curses.” As if to accentuate this point, Lireesa allowed her tail to break the surface of the water before it disappeared below again. 

“The weight of it…” Sylvanas began, but didn't finish.

“Too much for one person.” Lireesa admitted. “And I wish I could carry it for you.”

“For decades, you did. None of this is your fault, mother.”

Lireesa sighed and looked away for a moment, and Sylvanas watched the way her inky hair fanned out over the water. It was always like this. Full of words Lireesa’s tongue wouldn't allow her to speak. Tethered by the curse that had taken her legs…and her daughter’s life. 

“How many women await you at this port, bewitched by your otherworldly charm? Convinced they are in love with a mermaid?” Sylvanas was smirking, now. Only slightly. And there was a glint in Lireesa’s eyes when they turned back to rest upon her daughter. 

“You should return to your ship, Captain.” Lireesa chided gently. “Your time away from it grows short.” 

“Until next time, then.” Sylvanas tried to keep the sadness from her voice, but Lireesa didn't need to hear it to know it was there. She pulled herself further from the water, then, and pressed a kiss to Sylvanas’s forehead before slipping back down. 

“My heart will yearn for that time as it always does.” 

“And mine.” Sylvanas murmured before moving her feet beneath herself so she could stand. She only made it a few steps before she paused in front of a familiar, yet foreign sight in front of her boots.

A leaf. Golden. Ephemeral. One that no longer existed in their world. A gift to go with all the others stashed away in the chest in her Captain’s quarters.

By the time Sylvanas bent to retrieve it, Lireesa was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is she?”

Valeera wasn’t particularly alarmed at suddenly hearing Sylvanas’s voice behind her. She was used to that, now. She did, however, glance over as she felt the subtle shift on the cot of Sylvanas taking a seat next to her. 

“She’s okay. Her fever broke last night.” 

Yet, still, Valeera was currently in the process of changing out the cool, damp cloth that had been a mainstay across Liadrin’s forehead for the past two days. 

Sylvanas was both surprised and relieved. Surprised that Liadrin was still hanging on, and relieved for Valeera’s sake. She pulled a waterskin from her belt that had been hanging there and passed it to the young elf, who took it curiously. 

“More mana wine. For when she wakes up. This is going to be about the only thing that’ll edge out the headache she’s going to have.” Sylvanas stood and adjusted her jacket as Valeera’s gaze followed her. “And about the only thing that’s going to save her after that.” 

For a moment, Sylvanas’s attention shifted to the pitiful sight of the woman that had once led all of Quel’Thalas’s fleets. But then, weren’t they all pitiful after the loss of the Sunwell? It had taken a strength Sylvanas marveled at for Liadrin to still be alive and kicking. Well...alive, at least. Especially considering how old she was. 

Because those had been the first and the ones that had felt its loss the hardest. And the young…

Burning red eyes moved to Valeera, who was once again tending to her new charge. She wondered if Valeera was curious as to why she didn’t feel its absence any longer. She wondered if Valeera had ever understood what that feeling had even been. 

“How old are you, Valeera?” 

Valeera mulled that question over in her mind as she looked down at the wooden boards beneath her booted feet. She looked almost lost when she finally answered. “I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed in a way that tugged at that same place in Sylvanas that had suffered so greatly when she’d failed to save the young woman. “I...I think maybe around thirty.”

Sylvanas was quiet as she mulled that information over in an attempt to recover from the almost physical blow of learning it. “So young.” Sylvanas finally observed, her attention shifting to Liadrin as her chest rose sharply, suddenly, and then fell with a shuddering breath. “This one is very old.” She continued almost sadly. 

“How old? How do you know?” Valeera had reached for Liadrin at that subtle sign of pain, or at the very least - discomfort, and stroked carefully along the length of one of her ears. Valeera had learned this usually soothed her.

“Hers is not my story to tell. But she is far more than this that you see here. She could tell you more of our home than I could ever hope to.” 

Liadrin’s eyes began to flutter open then, and Sylvanas stood from the cot as the woman groaned weakly.

“Should you need anything, Warren is nearby.”

Before Valeera could tear her attention from Liadrin, her Captain was gone and they were alone with each other. 

“Oh, by the Light…” Liadrin rasped in a way that sounded more than a little painful. “Please let me die.”

“No. Now sit up and hold this bucket. I'm not cleaning you up again.”

“Again?” Liadrin asked as she winced in response to the dimly lit, enchanted lanterns illuminating the room they were in. “Why are we rocking back and forth right now?”

“...Ships do that.” Valeera explained, though her tone softened when Liadrin leaned over the bucket in her arms without using it while a shudder wracked her entire body. “Please drink this.” Valeera urged in a quiet plea as she held a flask of wine in her direction.

For once, Liadrin didn't fight her. For once, she downed the entire thing before she laid back down. For once, the unbearable ache in her joints and in her head began to fade. Replaced, instead, by the warmth of magic that had long been gone from her.

Next came water. Fresh and cool and pressed to her lips as Valeera supported her head. 

It took a long time, and much more patience than Valeera even knew she had - but eventually, Liadrin had her fill of wine, water, and even food and had moved to sit on the edge of the cot with her head in her hands. 

“What ship is this?” She asked - and Valeera noticed for the first time just how deep and rich the tone of Liadrin’s voice was under the husk and rasp that had been masking it. 

“Talah Falor.” Valeera answered in a tongue that was all but forgotten, and Liadrin’s ear shifted faintly at the sound of it. At the practiced ease with which Valeera had said those words.

Hesitantly, the former Admiral slipped into the language that had once belted from her across battlefields and ship decks. “You know our language?”

“Yes...would you prefer to speak with me in it?”

“Very much.” Liadrin sat up a little straighter, then. Regarded Valeera a little more carefully. “Talah Falor…”

“Her Captain is-”

“Sylvanas Windrunner.” Liadrin muttered as realization and memory flooded her.

Sylvanas. Daughter of Lireesa. And she was dead. Well. Technically.

Liadrin hadn't had time to process this before. Hell, she hadn't even had the awareness to.

But now...now, she sat on the cot in silence for a while. Mourning, perhaps. Trying to accept. 

This was Death’s Chill. Formerly the Thalas’din Belore. Home of the Sun. 

She had been the pride of their fleet. Liadrin had captained her herself, once, as a younger woman. Before...before. 

“Liadrin?” Valeera asked in a whisper, reaching to try a hand against her shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. “Are you with me?”

“I am.” Liadrin affirmed as she re-focused her vision and looked around herself. Taking stock. Her clothing had been cleaned. That was good. But her boots were gone. ...And her jacket. They were nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh! Here. Here, I'm sorry. I've been so focused on...well. Here.”

Liadrin watching in confusion as Valeera handed her a carefully wrapped, rather heavy bundle that she was only too eager to help her untie. 

Her breath caught in her throat when it fell open to reveal new, beautifully worked leather boots and...her jacket. With no holes. No tatters. It was red, again. Bright and sharp instead of ruddy. And the high, leather collar and cuffs had been cleaned. Restored.

Liadrin had rarely seen work like this. Perhaps because there were scarcely any elves left to do it. 

“Where did you find this material?” Liadrin finally asked as she splayed her fingers across it and lifted her gaze to meet Valeera’s without realizing she was tearing up. “This is...this is Silvermoon cloth.” 

Valeera looked a little sad as she reached out to stroke Liadrin’s cheek. “The Captain. I didn't mean to upset you. She let me fix your jacket for you...I don't know where she got the cloth. It was brought to me.” 

“Thank you.” Liadrin swallowed thickly a few times as Valeera couldn't help but smile, clearly proud of what she'd done. It certainly wasn't a bad feeling to make someone smile like that. It had been a long time, after all. 

For now, at least, they were safe here where they were. Safe enough that Valeera could help Liadrin to her feet every so often to get her walking. Safe enough that she could even help the woman on with her boots after a time. 

Finally, though, exhaustion took hold and Liadrin had moved to one of the hammocks nearby. They were more comfortable to her. More stable, since the rocking of the ship left them largely unaffected. “Tomorrow, I will do my best to find your captain and thank her.” Liadrin whispered as Valeera stood against the side of the cot, looking more than a little unwilling to leave her side. 

“I'll find her for you. After you rest.” Valeera offered, finally letting go of Liadrin’s hand where she'd still been holding it as she'd helped the still-recovering woman into the hammock. 

Liadrin faltered when Valeera took the first hesitant step backwards. “Rest with me, then, if you've no other duties to attend to.” 

“You are my only one right now.” Valeera explained, staying where she was until Liadrin finally pulled gently at her hand to urge her into the hammock with her.

It was a rather comfortable, cozy fit. And it was a feeling both of them desperately needed, even if for entirely different reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Velonara was quiet as she walked around the deck that jutted from the sides and back of the captains quarters where she had found Sylvanas perched precariously along the far edge, twirling a leaf in her fingertips as she looked out over the wakes their ship was leaving behind.

“You saw her then? At port the other night?” Velonara asked as she approached, moving to sit straddling the railing behind Sylvanas so she could run her hand over her shoulder to rest across her chest. 

“Yes.” Sylvanas murmured in response, lifting the leaf as Velonara rested her chin over her shoulder so that Sylvanas could trace the line of her jaw with it. So that Velonara could smell their home - however much of it still lingered - if only for a moment. “I don't remember what she said.”

Velonara nodded faintly, moving her other arm to wrap around Sylvanas's middle so that she was holding her firmly. Sylvanas never remembered. Velonara could remember a time Sylvanas would fly into a rage of frustration over it. She remembered a time there would be maps and ink and quills scattered across their cabin until she was picking Sylvanas up off the floor and trying her best to put the pieces of whatever their life was now back together.

That was long ago. 

“Was she well, at least?” Velonara asked in a soft murmur behind Sylvanas’s ear.

Sylvanas nodded, and some of the tension in her shoulders left them, then. Enough, at least, that she could lean back into the woman holding her. “She was. Hasn't aged a day. She is still beautiful. I am certain she haunts many a young woman of port’s dreams.”

“You would haunt mine, if I had them.” Velonara said quietly, then - lifting her hand so that she could tilt Sylvanas’s face towards herself and capture her lips in a slow, careful kiss. She didn't speak again until she felt Sylvanas’s hand come up to rest against the back of her head. “I think you may have been right about the Admiral, by the way.” 

“Is she awake, then?” Sylvanas asked as she let go her hold and lifted her cutlass over the edge of the railing so it wouldn't catch when she lowered herself down from it lightly. The leaf went back inside her jacket, where it would stay until it withered into fragility. 

“She is.” Velonara affirmed as she followed suit, then followed Sylvanas into their cabin, watching as the other woman shut the doors and turned to face her once their privacy was secured. “Tell me what's on your mind, Sylvanas.” She finally said when Sylvanas began flipping through a journal she had pulled from a chest behind her desk. Her mother’s log. 

“There has to be something here.” Sylvanas muttered distractedly. Here, in a journal she had read a thousand times. Here, in a journal Velonara knew all to well held no answers for them.

“Like what?”

“There is something about her. Something...my mother said…”

Velonara turned quickly on her heels as she heard alarmed warnings being shouted across the deck, drawing her pistol from the belt slung across her hips and placing herself between the door and Sylvanas.

“Let me through!” A voice boomed even over the sound of the water and creaking of the ship. Even through the thick wooden doors and walls that made up their quarters. “I demand an audience with the sea witch!” 

Velonara knew Sylvanas hadn't walked to reach her. She'd have heard her footsteps. Yet, her Captain was reaching for her arm to lower it even as the tumblers of the lock on their door opened with a simple gesture of Sylvanas’s hand. “Let him come.” Sylvanas said in a low, quiet tone with a smirk on her face. The journal was safely back in its chest now - all but forgotten.

Velonara stepped back just as Nathanos burst through the door, Warren limping across the deck behind him. There were a dozen arrows aimed at his back from the deck. A dozen sets of eyes trained on Sylvanas through the door awaiting a signal that never came.

“You may have your audience. If you can muster even some semblance of civility, that is.” 

An insult was choked back down his throat an instant later, and Sylvanas took a single step forward even as he fell to his knees - sputtering as his eyes burned with fury he couldn't express. 

He gasped when Sylvanas allowed him to drag a breath into his lungs.

“Try again.” Sylvanas said lowly as Velonara tucked her pistol back into her belt and walked away with a raise of her brow.

“I...w...will do no s-such thing. W...witch!” 

Nathanos wasn't certain what happened.

All he knew was that he was suddenly on his back in the center of the top deck with the air knocked from his lungs as inky shadow roiled angrily around him.

Shadow that, as he struggled to focus his vision and to breathe, slowly coalesced into solid form above him as it...no. As _she_ stood. 

“Take him to the brig.” Sylvanas ordered her deck crew as they advanced upon him and her hand came to rest upon the pommel of her cutlass. Her eyes were still on the former captain as he was dragged to his feet. “He will have his audience when I decide he will, and not a moment sooner.”


End file.
